


Once in a Lifetime

by tluthal



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Bondage, Breathplay, F/M, Snuff, filthy smut, functional immortality, peril bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 14:36:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7622437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tluthal/pseuds/tluthal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unnamed huntress has a fondness for beasts and danger. A certain ex-priest is happy to oblige.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once in a Lifetime

"Eyeing the beasts, are you?" A deep voice rumbled a bit above her head, a large, clawed hand pressing against her chest and preventing her from jerking away from the long, too-hot line of body that pressed itself against her back. The gravelly sound of it and the sharp mixture of Hunter floral-spicy and the pungent stench of Beast told her it was the so-called Father Gascoigne who had joined her for a brief time. He sniffed deeply, and a chuckle rumbled through her bones from his chest. “I’d almost think you want to lay with one, the way you watch them before getting to business.”

She coughed to cover the hot flash of desire the thought sent through her body. “D-don’t be ridiculous--”

The hand on her chest shifted from the center to the side. “Don’t try that on a Hunter, girl. You’d be wet to your knees if it weren’t for the Dream - and not just with sweet blood.” The blind man loomed over her, one large hand easily grasping a breast more than one man had called a waste.

A blush colored her face swiftly, but she didn’t push the elder Hunter away. “... You’re a filthy old man. Your wife know you get handsy with your fellows?” One of her hands, almost of its own accord, snaked behind her to trail up his thigh. He was a massive old hunter, enough so that his groin was closer to the small of her back than her ass - which did little to disguise the feeling of him swelling under the thick robes he wore.

The chuckles turned to snickers. “Oh, she likes to share. Come morning you might have your head clamped between her thighs while I bury myself in the dripping heart of you.” Her hand bunched in the fabric of his robes at the thought and she sucked in a breath.

“Oh really?” Her voice came out in a deep purr and she relaxed back against him, shifting onto her toes to rub against his front more effectively.

“Yes. Really. But come morning, you’ll be... only human once more. There are things you can do tonight you can’t do at any... other...” His free hand slipped slowly up from her waist to circle her throat, lifting her from her toes to the tips of her boots, “Time.” She felt her pulse beat against his palm as he pressed back slowly, gently, forcing her head back against his chest until there was no more back and all that held her up was the pressure of his hands at her throat and breast.

Another might have kicked and struggled. Her hands raised, but gripped the sleeves of his robes tightly, eyes fluttering back. He growled, a low rumble that she could feel more than hear against the white noise of singing blood in her ears. He held her like that until her grip started to tear at the seams of his robe, then slowly lowered her back onto her feet. She gasped quietly, leaning heavily against him. His hands roamed over her slowly, slipping her coat back and stroking along her sides and belly as he gave her a chance to coax air back into her screaming lungs.

“There’s a ladder not far from here. A bit of rope around your arms and chest will keep you at the right height to keep you from choking with my cock in you. Or maybe you’d rather be just a little bit higher than that...?”

“Oh, gods, yes.”

* * *

Her hands desperately gripped one rung of the cold metal ladder, a rope looped tightly around her wrists, around her arms and the sides of it, over her shoulders, around her chest, and tied with each knot well out of her reach. Gascoigne had stripped her from the waist down, but hadn’t bothered with more than opening her top layers. The ropes themselves held shirt and waistcoat pinned open, and the coat hid most of the ropework. The position was uncomfortable enough without the difficulty of trying to grip cold metal with feet that could only just reach the rung below them, and couldn’t reach the rung above on their own. The strain on her arm joints was already uncomfortable, but that wasn’t the half of it.

The former priest smirked up at her from where he knelt, hands slipping under her thighs to spread her legs wide and keep her from bracing on the ladder at all. She hissed as her arms took her full weight, head tilting back against the rung just behind it. He nuzzled her thigh gently before licking a hot, wet line up it. His lips rested lightly against her folds, just enough that speaking was enough to make her squirm.

“You were already wet to your knees. Greedy girl.” He guided one of her feet to his shoulder, freeing his hand to teasingly slip between her folds, taking care not to slip beyond the inner set.

“‘M not the one who  has rope just in ca--” She cut off with a high, breathy cry as he pinched her clit between three of his claw-like nails. It wasn’t quite enough to hurt, but it was more than enough to eliminate her concentration on anything but the sharpness pressing against the most sensitive organ in her body. He pulled just a little, lifting his arm to force her to contort and spread herself wider to keep the sensation from tipping over into pain. She whimpered, trembling with the effort to stay still.

“I do not recall asking for your opinion.”

“Hhhh--” She grasped at his shawl with her toes, yanking sharply on the fabric and drawing it tight against his throat.

“Oh, are we playing that game?” He tilted his head, biting down into her inner thigh, the one he was still supporting, stopping just short of drawing blood. She whimpered, unconsciously jerking harder as she tried to keep from losing her grip on the rung in her hands. He growled, slowly drawing blood.

“Fuck!” She jerked back, head smacking against a rung as she tried to pull away, arms and chest straining against the rope.

He lifted his head, lapping lightly at the bite. “Play nice.”

“Fuck you.”

“That was the general idea, yes.” He gently released her clit, returning to stroking gently between her folds, spreading her natural lubrication in soothing motions. She let out a shuddery breath, relaxing again by degrees, until her arms started to shudder with the strain again.

Gascoigne took his time, letting his fingers dip deeper to give her a taste of stretch before pulling away again. Whenever she started to relax too far, he once more applied nails to clit, keeping her from simply hanging and enduring the discomfort. As her breath began to shudder, he lifted both her legs once more, his tongue replacing his fingers to taste his handiwork.

She whimpered, biting her lip hard to keep any louder noise from escaping, shifting her hips to get a better angle. He hummed at the shift and moved the hand supporting her thigh to hold her there.

“Ah... tongue alone won’t do it...”

He made a soft noise of accent and slid his thumb into her as deep as it would go. She hissed, head tilting back again. It was just at the edge of what she needed, as though he were trying to keep her tight and desperate for something more... substantial. He tilted his head, teeth just brushing against her. That was, finally, enough to make her cry out in release, only his body supporting her keeping full weight off of her shoulders. Her hands tightened on the rung of the ladder until the metal screamed in protest, fingers digging grooves into it. He kept up his attentions until the aftermath faded, slowly standing and letting her legs settle to either side of the rungs. She yelped in startled pain, struggling to hold herself up again, too uncoordinated to get a foothold on the ladder again.

“Patience, now. I do believe I promised something a bit more... interesting, didn’t I?” The former priest stroked his hands up her sides, cupping her breasts gently and tilting his head down to kiss her. She met him as best she could, tongue darting into his mouth faster than he could counter. He chuckled, one hand rubbing a warm, rough palm across her nipple, the other dropping her breast to pull out a length of thick, heavy rope. It wasn’t quite as thick around as her wrist, but it was near enough to make her shudder when he trailed it from her hip to coil it around her throat. “I wonder if you’ll last long enough for me to finish. We can always try again if not.”

He nipped her lower lip before pulling the coil taunt, forcing her to stretch her neck up and tilt her head back to gasp in even a thin wheeze of air. Quickly it was secured to the ladder, high enough that she was forced to take all her weight and struggle to keep her shoulders up and back for even that much. Involuntarily she twitched, feet kicking ineffectually against the sides of the ladder. He took his time opening his robes and pants, not bothering to remove anything.

She tried to whimper, but only a reedy whistle escaped her lips. She could feel blood pounding in her temples already, almost hear that white not-noise that accompanied air and blood both being reduced, but not quite totally cut off. Another kiss stole what little breath she could muster, distracting her from his hands cupping and squeezing her breasts again. She tried to brace herself against his legs, but he stepped back enough all she could do was kick and twitch, feeling herself get wetter and wetter.

Her vision started to go white before he pulled away and lifted her hips, giving her a half a second of enough air to make her lungs burn harder for it, before he plunged himself into her. The stretching burn of a cock far larger than an ordinary man could have nearly matched her lungs’ desperate scream for air as what little breath she’d taken was ripped from them in a muted cry. He hilted himself in her, one hand gripping her ass to keep her hips where he wanted them, the other roaming her body.

He began to move slowly, hips rocking in and out of her, enough to give himself friction, never enough to give her relief from the stretch and fullness of him inside her. She twitched helplessly, trying to wrap her legs around him futilely - every time she managed it, he pushed them back down, tormenting her with kisses to steal what air she could suck down at the top of his thrust. Her face heated with the blood trapped there, dizziness rapidly overtaking her, driving her already over-sensitive body to new heights of need as a tingling numbness began in her fingers and toes.

She could hear his voice over the rushing of her heart, but couldn’t make out the words. His thumb was rubbing tiny, fast circles against her clit, making her twitch and gasp as spots started to overtake her vision, the static at the edges of it narrowing her world to a blind face and the pleasure he was pulling from her. Her arms gave out, the ropes taking her full weight, cutting off the last thin breath of air as she let it out. Her heart pounded, the lack of it and the throbbing pleasure driving her over the edge, tightening around him.

She wasn’t conscious long enough to feel him fill her, an almost beastly load distending her stomach beyond what she was built to hold, dripping down their legs. Wasn’t alive long enough for him to bother salvaging her dignity before her body faded into stars.

... He could return her pants and boots at the lantern.

* * *

“...” The Doll’s face was as emotionless as ever as she watched the Hunter awaken in the dream, flushed with some strange human need. “Good Hunter... I believe you have forgotten something.”

She looked down, face rapidly lighting further in mortification as she realized half of her clothing had indeed, been forgotten in the waking world.

“I am going to kill that man!”


End file.
